


a mind has so many pictures

by Treehouse



Series: Shibari [2]
Category: SKAM (Norway)
Genre: Aftercare, M/M, Overstimulation, Sex Toys, Shibari
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-09
Updated: 2021-01-09
Packaged: 2021-03-13 13:22:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,699
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28654200
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Treehouse/pseuds/Treehouse
Summary: This time it’s not solely about tying beautiful knots. Maybe it hasn’t been about that for quite some time now. It has become something more, something between them that they’re trying out, exploring. Longing for.
Relationships: Even Bech Næsheim/Isak Valtersen
Series: Shibari [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2099940
Comments: 27
Kudos: 128





	a mind has so many pictures

**Author's Note:**

  * For [MinilocIsland](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MinilocIsland/gifts).



> And so the prompt I thought I would never write multiplied and became a second fic. Your reactions to that first part meant a lot and I got inspired. So thank you! 
> 
> Also, a big thank you to Ghostcat for helping me sort this part out as well, you are a darling <3
> 
> This fic is for darling Raz, who is a specialist in making me write (stuff like this).

This time it’s not solely about tying beautiful knots. Maybe it hasn’t been about that for quite some time now. It has become something more, something between them that they’re trying out, exploring. Longing for. 

But of course, the rope is neatly wound around Isak’s strong arms, several rounds with knots in between to relieve the pressure and it is beautifully done, if Even may say so himself. It meanders around Isak’s upper arms, all the way down to his wrists, bound evenly and looped around itself to remain in its place. An even number of rounds, with an even number of knots. Isak’s arms are tightly bound behind his back, wrist against wrist, his elbows, and upper arms pulled against each other with double column ties. It forces Isak into a rigid posture, making him arch his back.

Like this, he seems even stronger, Even thinks. As if it takes eight rounds of rope in four different places to keep his arms pinioned. His muscles show underneath the skin on his back, every small movement, every breath. 

Isak’s shoulders are broad, he’s been working out, growing, and Even can’t stop looking. Especially not now, when Isak just cut his hair, and his neck is slightly bent forward, skin soft and pale, buzzcut tickling the tips of Even’s fingers. He follows Isak’s spine from the hollow of his neck down towards the ropes crossing his back. Draws his fingers along Isak’s muscled shoulders, feels him shiver.

It’s always a surprise for Isak just how Even chooses to tie him. That’s part of it. He has to submit. Be patient. And Even knows that is the hardest part for Isak, to be forced to inefficiency, acquiescence. To wait for Even. And Even moves slowly, especially when they’re doing this. Ties every knot with care. Knows how Isak really has to focus to remain completely still, to not push ahead or to help. 

He pulls out the last length of rope he’s going to use today; a coarse hawser made from hemp. Folds it in half and ties Isak’s ankles to the chord between his wrists. 

Like this, he can sit on his knees, but nothing else. Can’t move from the bed or stretch. He has to wait for Even. 

The room is hot, Even is sticky with sweat and his sweater is damp against his skin. He removes it along with his t-shirt. Folds both garments neatly and puts them on the chair with as much care as he’s put in tying the knots on Isak. He can hear Isak’s heavy breathing behind him, the crinkle of sheets as he moves slightly. Even swallows, turns around. Watches Isak on his knees in the middle of the bed. When he’s in front of him, he can’t make out the ropes, can’t see that he’s bound, only that his posture is a little straighter than usual. Isak’s cheeks are red, his eyes dark. Hair short on the top of his head, neck and shoulders a little tense. His chest is moving rapidly with every short breath he takes, his small nipples flat against his skin. Cock standing hard and stiff against his stomach, thighs slightly parted. 

Even licks his lips, has to clear his throat before he speaks. “You’re perfect.” 

Isak looks at him, a small smile before his shoulders tense up as he tries the ropes again. 

“You want me to continue?” Even keeps his voice dark and low and he–

he hopes that Isak is going to say yes. But this is something new. Normally, it’s Isak who takes over after Even has finished tying him up. 

Isak licks his lips. Nods. Answers with a whisper. “Yes.” 

“Okay.” Even can’t help but smile a little. “Okay.” 

He notices how Isak swallows, how he leans forward almost imperceptibly, and Even bends down, puts his hand on Isak’s cheek. A quick kiss on Isak’s mouth and Isak opens up immediately, wants more but Even gets up again. “I’ll be right back.” 

He leaves the bedroom, enters the living room. Has to take some deep breaths, puts his hand against the wall. This was what he’d hoped for, what he’d thought of. That Isak would let him continue this time, that Even would be allowed to show him. 

He unhooks the big mirror in the hallway, checks the front door. Locked, security chain on. That’s good. 

Even carries the mirror into the bedroom and puts it on the chair facing the bed, leaning it against the wall. That’s why he made Isak sit looking in this direction, because he hoped for this. 

Isak is silent when Even puts the mirror where he wants it, but Even notices him watching himself quickly before he closes his eyes and draws a deep breath. He puts his hand on Isak’s neck, fingers against Isak’s cheek and then he bends down to kiss him again. It reassures him when Isak answers the kiss, when he whimpers against Even’s lips and opens up to him. 

“I want you to look at yourself, okay?” Even slides his other hand along Isak’s shoulder, down along his chest, thumb against his nipple, rubbing back and forth. “All the time. When I touch you, when I make you come.” 

Isak moans quietly, leans his forehead against Even, and Even kisses him again; on the corner of his mouth, his upper lip. Tweaks his nipple between thumb and forefinger, rolls it between them until it stiffens, until Isak pants. 

“Okay?” 

Isak nods, lips searching for Even. “Shit. Yeah.” 

He circles the bed, goes to stand behind Isak. His eyes are closed as Even reaches for the bedside table. 

Isak is perfectly positioned like this. Even can see all of him in the mirror, can meet his eyes, see exactly how Isak is affected by what Even does. 

And in addition to that, Isak can see himself, see exactly the same thing Even does. 

It tickles his fingertips when Even draws his hands along Isak’s arms. The coarse rope and Isak’s smooth skin, all those knots sitting perfectly even though Isak moved, how they shape him, mark him, force him to submit. 

Isak writhes, moves impatiently against Even, and sighs contentedly when Even kisses his neck. His cock is wet and shiny, moves with his heartbeats, his breaths and he moans when Even puts his hands on the inside of his thighs, lets his fingers travel up towards his groin.

“You have to open your eyes, baby.” He whispers it against Isak’s neck, scrapes his teeth against the skin at the same time he cups Isak’s balls, weighs them in the palm of his hand. 

Isak’s eyes are almost completely black when he opens them and searches out Even’s gaze in the mirror, moving as best he can against Even’s hand. 

Even lets him go again, kisses his shoulder as he searches blindly behind himself. When he’s found what he’s looking for, he lets the cool silicone slowly slide along Isak’s fingertips. Keeps watching Isak all the time. 

The flush has spread down along Isak’s neck and his hair is damp with sweat, and Even sees the exact moment it dawns on him, when he understands what Even is running against his fingertips. How he draws his breath, how his abs clench, how he’s searching for something to rub up against, for  _ more _ . 

He licks his lips, moves impatiently. “Even. Come on.”

“Are you sure you can manage? You’re not hurting anywhere?” 

It’s as teasing as it is serious, and Isak leans his head against Even. “I want to. Please.” 

The prostate massager isn’t particularly big, but it’s bent just right, designed to press just right. Even loves to use it on Isak, to see how it affects him and that Even can control it so accurately. He makes it wet with lube, lets his fingers slide down between Isak’s ass-cheeks, can’t resist feeling the warmth there or to see how his mouth opens in a silent moan when his fingertips graze his rim. He nudges it gently, not to breach but Isak pushes against him, arms straining against the ropes, the muscles in his shoulders visible where his arms are securely fastened behind his back. 

Even presses the vibrator against Isak, pulls back when Isak closes his eyes. 

“I want you to look at yourself, baby. Don’t close your eyes.” Even speaks quietly with his mouth close to Isak’s ear and Isak gasps but opens his eyes. Blinks a few times but proceeds to study himself in the mirror. 

Even slowly slides the vibrator inside, keeping his eyes on Isak all the time. Sees as well as feels how he shivers, pants when the thickest part slips inside. Isak’s mouth is slightly agape and there’s precum running down his cock. Even himself is so hard he’s aching inside his jeans, but right now Isak is his only focus. 

Isak whimpers when the vibrator is fully inside of him, when Even sets it right. He sways a little, is fighting to keep his eyes open. Even is behind him, keeping close, the warmth from Isak’s skin against his own.

He puts his arm around Isak and pushes the button on the remote. Holds Isak when he jerks, calms him with big hands over his stomach and chest, soft fingers trailing over taut muscles, bucking when Even heightens the intensity of the vibrations. 

Isak is tugging the ropes, is trying to get up, but the hawser around his ankles prevents him from stretching his legs, keeps him tethered and he writhes, moves against Even, moans hoarsely.

He’s absolutely perfect, his reflection in the mirror flawless. Hard and soft and sweaty and vulnerable and he keeps his eyes on himself, on Even’s hands roaming his body. When his fingers tweak a nipple or slowly travels across muscles or down along his cock, sliding all the way down to his groin, in between his legs. The silicone is slippery with lube, resting against the sensitive skin behind Isak’s balls. Even touches it, presses down, making Isak jerk and moan hoarsely. 

Even is still on his knees behind Isak, supporting his weight when he tilts, wanting to be near. He continues to slide his hands over Isaks body, can’t get enough of seeing Isak reacting to the smallest touch, pressure, pinch. He’s keeping close, has to be able to see everything, to touch everything and he gasps when Isak fumbles behind his back, pushes his tied hands against Even, against his hard cock underneath the fabric of his jeans. 

“Fuck, Isak. You–” He moans, grinds against Isak’s hands, sees Isak smiling through the mirror while he works the button on Even’s pants. 

“Come on, help me. Ah–”

Isak’s abs are clenching, he’s jerking, clearly affected by the vibrator, by Even taking control, leaving him no choice but to follow along. Even unzips his fly and quickly pulls his pants and underwear down mid-thigh so that he can rub against Isak’s bound hands. Isak’s gaze is dark in the mirror, his grip on Even’s cock quite clumsy, not at all firm or precise but it only makes it better. Hotter. 

Even ups the intensity on the vibrator another notch, keeping his arm around Isak’s chest to prevent him from tipping forward. He knows exactly how responsive Isak is, how strongly he reacts and today is no different. He calls out, and leans heavily on Even, puts his head on Even’s shoulder. His hips are twitching, jerking against nothing, his entire body straining, and Even can’t tear his eyes from him, wants Isak to see as well. He puts his other hand around Isak’s jaw to turn his head towards the mirror. 

“Come on baby. The mirror.” 

Isak is panting, but he does as Even says and straightens his neck. His mouth is open, every breath a hoarse sound. 

“You’re so very close now, aren’t you?” 

Isak moans again but doesn’t look away. Tightens his grip on Even’s cock behind his back, and Even is as close to coming as Isak is, trying to keep his voice steady. 

“Mmh. And I want you to come like this, I want you to watch the entire time.” 

He circles one of Isak’s nipples with his fingers, loves how sensitive they are. Squeezes it, harder this time, pulls at it. Again and again, while he slowly moves against Isak’s hands, sliding his cock between Isak’s palms, like this is all for him. Then he bends down and sucks the skin just below Isak’s ear, pulls it in between his lips, scrapes it with his teeth and that’s all it takes to push Isak over the edge. He shouts, body rigid and then he’s coming. Thick, slow spurts, dripping down his cock. 

It’s drawn-out, seemingly endless, and Even holds Isak tightly the entire time, continues to rub himself against him, moans as he spills between Isak’s hands while Isak is still dripping with his own come. 

His hair is dark from sweat, there’s come on his thighs, and on the sheet where he’s sitting. Even turns off the vibrations, but doesn’t let go of him. Slides his hands through the wet mess, draws it out over Isak’s stomach and chest. Isak opens his mouth obediently when Even’s fingers prod at his lips, moans around them, and sucks them clean. 

“You’re perfect, baby. Always.” He’s keeping his voice low, kisses Isak’s neck and the mark he just made there and Isak whines around his fingers, is still twitching every now and then. “I’m going to untie you, okay?” 

Isak makes a humming sound, closes his eyes while Even slides his fingers out of his mouth. He makes sure he won’t topple over before he backs away and starts to untie the knots behind Isak’s back. The ropes around his wrists are soaked from Even’s come, they don’t slide as easy as they normally do. Isak’s hands are wet with it too, it’s been running along with his fingers, down between his ass–cheeks and Even shivers when he realizes that Isak is now wet from the lube and from him. 

He can’t stop himself from sliding his fingers down Isak’s back, his tailbone, to follow that wet, slippery trail further down until his fingers find the edge of the vibrator still in place. He touches it, grazes Isak’s skin with his fingertips. Knows that Isak doesn’t want to remove it immediately, that he likes the overstimulation. That he’s sometimes able to come again just because he’s sensitive and almost sore. Isak makes a sound at that, twitches a little, and Even kisses his shoulder and proceeds to untie him. Unfastens the coarse rope around Isak’s ankles, where the skin has become red and sore as he’s been pulling it. Then he unlaces the chords around Isak’s arms, unwinds the many rounds that have been forcing Isak to sit up straight in an uncomfortable position. 

He doesn’t bother winding up the ropes, he might need to wash them anyway. Just throws them next to the bed as soon as Isak is untied and pulls his jeans off at the same time. Carefully slides his hands across Isak’s back, along his arms and his shoulders. Helps him lie down on the bed, keeps him close, and pulls up the cover. He’s got his chest against Isak’s back, his heartbeat a steady thrum between their skin. They’re silent, breaths evening out, and Even combs his fingers through Isak’s hair. 

“Are you okay? Isak?” 

“Mm. Just–don’t let go of me.” 

“I’d never.” He continues to caress Isak, gentle strokes along his arm and chest, makes Isak rest his head on Even’s arm. “Are you hurting somewhere?” 

Isak shakes his head. “It was–it was really intense. But so, so good.” 

Even kisses his neck. “It was.”

He’d like to speak more, wants to tell Isak how astounding it is that Isak trusts him to take over completely, that he leaves it up to Even to decide everything. But not now. Not when Isak is lying in his arms, naked and vulnerable. 

“Can–can you go again though?” Isak’s voice is quiet, he presses against Even. 

“Mm?” 

“Can you go again?” 

A hot surge rushes through Even. Does he mean–

“I want to–I just want to feel you. Only you.” He turns halfway, big eyes on Even. His face is open, almost defenseless and he’s so beautiful it leaves Even breathless. He leans forward and kisses Isak’s mouth, whispers against his lips.

“I want that too. Like this?” 

Isak nods, positions himself with his back against Even, and Even stretches for the lube, blood rushing through his body, amassing in his groin. Normally, he wouldn’t be able to get hard as quickly, but it’s something about this afternoon, this night. 

“I’ll remove this, okay?” He puts his fingers around the vibrator, waits a couple of seconds to give Isak time to relax before he gently pulls it out. Isak moans weakly and Even lubes himself up quickly. Moves closer, presses up against Isak. 

“Just–slowly, okay?” Isak reaches back with his hand, places it on Even’s hip, and steers him closer, clearly showing exactly how he wants Even. A soft “ah” as Even pushes inside, when Isak opens up. The hand on Even’s hip is squeezing hard, is keeping Even still, and he grows unmistakably harder with Isak’s wet heat surrounding him, squeezing him almost rhythmically. 

They stay like that, just for a short while, before Isak pulls Even closer, letting Even fill him slowly until his hips are pressed snugly against Isak’s ass. His one arm is still wedged underneath Isak’s neck, and he’s stroking Isak gently with his other hand; Isak’s arm, his hip, his thigh. 

“Can you―slowly?” Isak’s voice is strained, his breathing shallow and Even moves carefully. Pulls out, just a little, only to slide inside again. The dark, hoarse sound seems to be pushed out of Isak, and Isak shifts a little, changes the angle of his hips, his movements are edgy now. And Even understands exactly what he wants, where he wants him. He shuffles, pushes inside again. 

“Oh God. That’s, Even, I–” He almost sobs out that last word, quivers against Even. 

Even puts his arm around Isak, keeps him close while he continues to move inside. Slowly, precise. “Shh, it’s okay. I’ve got you, baby. Just like this, right?” 

He’s barely moving, buried inside Isak, just pushing that spot that is making Isak quake and moan, and Isak nods, his grip around Even’s arm tightening with every small thrust. 

“You’re amazing. So perfect. You’re going to come again, aren’t you? Just because you’re so sensitive.” 

Isak doesn’t answer him, but it doesn’t matter. He’s panting, twitching, squeezing Even’s cock inside of him, close but still far. Even sneaks his hand down along Isak’s stomach, following the trail of coarse hair downwards, and puts his hand around Isak’s cock. Strokes him at the same pace as he fucks him. He’s been hard for hours now; when Even tied him up, and then constantly stimulated. By the vibrator, by Even. 

Even guesses that this could count as some kind of aftercare, even if he doesn’t want to think about what they’re doing in terms of bondage. They’ve always taken care of each other, no matter the situation. Always wanted to give as much as possible, and Even has never felt so seen or so loved as he does with Isak. 

And this isn’t uncommon, that either of them needs something  _ more _ after they’ve done this; something planned, that’s taken them time and effort and dedication. For Isak especially. He often needs to come down slowly, carefully. 

"God, don't stop I–" Isak clings to Even's arm, and if what they were doing before takes a huge amount of trust then this is so much more intimate and naked and frail and Even would never want to be without it. 

He kisses Isak's neck, keeps moving inside of him, movements small and controlled. Not at all enough to make Even come again, but that is not important right now. "I won't stop, baby–" He whispers it against Isak's neck. "–it's okay."

Isak cries out when he comes, shrill and desperate and Even holds him through it. Wave after wave hitting him, making him jolt and shiver and Even moans with Isak, when he pushes himself back on Even's cock and then into the tight tunnel of Even's fist until everything is too raw, too tender and he moves forward enough for Even to slide out of him. 

Even doesn't let go of Isak, he stays close, stays cuddled up against him. Even's cock is hard and sticky against Isak's tailbone, Even's hand wet and warm against Isak's stomach. It's perfect and he inhales against Isak's neck, breathes hotly against his skin, and Isak is panting, quivering, almost laughing. 

They lie close until their breathing evens out, until they’re starting to feel sticky and tacky but still too tired to move. 

Isak draws his breath, turns around slowly. Grimaces as he moves. “I mean–" 

"Mm." Even doesn't let go of him. "You okay?" 

"Shit. Yes." He snuggles closer, lets out a sigh. "It's just–I can't understand that this is a thing for me. That I even like this. It's not something I'd ever would have thought about myself." 

"No?" 

"And that you enjoy it." He looks up, smiles one of his crooked smiles. "You're like the least controlling person I know of." 

"Yeah?" He's drawing circles on Isak's back with his fingers. "For me, it's just about making you feel good." 

"So this is all on me? Sounds like a clear case of victim-blaming now, babe." 

"Mm. I've got nothing to do with our relationship, okay?" He kisses Isak once, and then once more. Licks his lips. "You know it's just us, right? That we can do whatever we want to?" 

Isak looks serious all of a sudden. "I know, baby." 

"That's good."

“Mmh. That’s chill.” 

They're lying forehead to forehead, as close as possible and Even wonders if he will ever feel less from being this close to Isak. He hopes not. 

  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!  
> I'm modestytreehouse on tumblr, come talk to me about skam, prompt me or send me gifs! <3


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